


To The Pain

by Ayulsa (execharmonious)



Category: Mana Khemia: Alchemists of Al-Revis
Genre: BDSM, Breathplay, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-29
Updated: 2010-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-09 19:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/execharmonious/pseuds/Ayulsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who ever uses the school dungeon anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	To The Pain

The first blow struck Vayne hard, in the side, and his knees buckled. Something that was half a choked whimper and half a cough fell from his parted lips.

"Ssh, Vayne, none of that now," said Roxis in sweet tones; too sweet for the violence of this, an odd contrast to the atmosphere in the cell. "If anyone hears you, there'll be trouble. And you wouldn't want to get me into trouble, would you?"

Vayne shook his head, tousled hair all falling in his eyes as his head bowed in contrition.

"Good," was Roxis' only response.

Something sharp and swift snapped across Vayne's exposed chest. A razor-edged chain of light and steel, the shuffle of cards as they fell back into Roxis' hand, and Vayne had wished not to feel it agonisingly but the sting was still there, and he failed to bite back a soft cry.

"I told you not to make a--" said Roxis, the word _sound_ eclipsed as Vayne's head rung from the blow. "Or do you want me to _wish_ you silent?"

Wish him silent? It was a struggle to hold back the sounds his throat forced forth, but to scream and scream against the mocking walls of the dungeon and feel no sound come out at all, his protests reduced to empty air, no satisfaction, no release....

He nodded, weakly, clutching his bruised cheek.

After all, no one was going to come down after them. Roxis' charade was simply that: the bored guard, stuck running a "prison" that was little more than an occasional sleeping spot for cats, had been more than happy to hire out the place, for a cover story of a "research project" and a little bit of a fee. But still, one more torment couldn't help but make things sweeter.

The cards struck him again, a slash that crisscrossed the previous blow; his eyes watering too much to open them, he could only judge location from the lingering heat, but the pleasure-pain throbbing in his nipples was enough to tell him Roxis had aimed with purpose. To manage that blow, twice, without breaking skin, and in complete confidence that he wouldn't just slice through the raised and sensitive flesh... that took talent, and for all he _wanted_ to feel impressed by this show, now he truly _was_ impressed.

What those cards could do much lower down, controlled with such finesse.... Blood rushed through him at the thought, and he could tell from the tightness in his groin that his thoughts were perfectly visible, even without the pact.

Sure enough, Roxis barked out a laugh. "Heh. I know what you're probably thinking right now. This isn't quite what you asked for, is it?" He moved closer to Vayne, the warmth of slight exertion and evident arousal pouring off him, the hand that reached down to cup him sending tingles of heat well ahead of its touch. "You're rather hard" --_yes he was_, and Vayne blushed at his failure to resist the train of thought-- "to keep my hands off, you know, when you're like this."

His fingers uncurled themselves from Vayne's length, and he would have whimpered at the loss but suddenly he _couldn't_, and the realisation only added to his need. "Don't worry. I have no intentions of doing anything with _this_ until you're thoroughly beaten. It's just another little ache to add to the pile." The now-familiar whiplike sensation flashed across his thigh. "And another place to target." Vayne sank to one knee, shuddering, the heady mixture of longing and sharpness and _way too close!_ that spiralled through him causing his vision to speckle with stars.

"Beaten so soon?" said Roxis, reaching forward to lift Vayne's chin. Encouraged by the contact, he finally managed to open his eyes-- and met a gaze remorseless and literally burning, twin fires ignited in the half-light by the flicker of the torches around them. "I haven't even started with you yet. Don't tell me you're going to make things that easy for me." Vayne felt his chest tighten as Roxis' next blow caught him off guard, forcing him to draw in air on instinct. "I might just be insulted."

Shakily, clinging to the rough-hewn stone for support, he dragged himself back to his feet, summoning forth a challenging smile that said, _I wouldn't dream of it_.

Roxis' eyes narrowed to slits. "You're far too cocky."

He hadn't been, and they both knew it, but it was all the excuse Roxis needed to drop the careful teasing and lay into Vayne with earnest. Now there was no separation between blows, no time to gauge what came from where-- Roxis was crushing heat and blades and snarls and fists tangled in his hair, and time slowed to a hazy standstill as his head hit the back of the wall, once, twice, three times, his arms aching from being wrenched behind his back, his air supply choked out of him by hands around his throat.

He didn't need to breathe, but he'd forgotten to _note_ that, acting on instinct, and the sheer raw feeling of it made him struggle and kick and try to pry Roxis' fingers off; but he wasn't having it, he _knew_ Vayne didn't need it, and Vayne knew it too but why, why couldn't he make his body believe that, why was everything going black.... Somewhere in the background, Sulpher hissed, ill at ease even with this scripted conflict, but he barely registered the sound. It sounded too much like the blood-noise in his ears.

The world pressing in around him, stiflingly close, he jerked and twitched limply in Roxis' grasp. Through the haze and the heat and the strange dulled pleasantness he could feel the wall against his back, scraping and rough yet too distant now to hurt; and he knew Roxis must be pinning him there because when he arched forward in a last convulsive struggle he felt himself brush up against warm skin, _so so so good,_ and he felt his mind swim with sweet sensations and the lightness in his limbs and then _sharp_, the sudden flood of air into starved lungs as Roxis broke the grip. Collapsing to the ground again, he gasped noisily, the sound of it rushing in his ears like water, like he'd been hit by a tidal wave.

Forcing himself to look up, he almost passed out a second time as nausea overtook him, the dizziness throwing his sense of balance. But he needed to see Roxis, needed to know where he was. He'd lost track of time, and there was blood in his throat, and the wavering image of Roxis that formed out of the constellations before his eyes didn't do much to let him know what was happening, fuzzy and far away like a scrying-pool vision.

This time, the pain that lanced through him didn't register as an attack, more an indefinable sensation of presence. It came to him all at once why people said pain made you feel alive; all sense of body and boundary was gone from him, the only notion of his being the aches and sensations of pressure against his skin, all else dissolved in a swirling, senseless void. It felt strangely... meditative, stretches of timeless unformedness punctuated by the colour-flash of blows. He'd stopped worrying about the bleeding, or the time that had passed; his concept of either had faded with that blow. He was nothing, and no one, except where Roxis was, existing where Roxis commanded him to exist, in brief slashes of light.

***

 

_Drip... drip... drip...._

The first memory that came to him was that he'd been in the dungeon. He still was, judging from the sound; the dull splash of stagnant water against the ground was an atmosphere-setter. And even if he didn't feel the cold as such, he knew what clammy felt like, and the liquid beaded on his skin suggested a cool, damp place.

He tried to take a breath, to feel his throat, and the first thing that hit his sinuses was wetness. Warm wetness, with the scent of metal. He swiped a hand over his face, still unseeing; he felt liquid pool on it. The dripping probably hadn't been the dungeon leaks, but his own blood.

He struggled to lift himself, but it was like he was trapped in armour, old and heavy and rusted in place. At length, he managed to pry open his eyes, fighting down another wave of dizziness as he did so; his head felt so light. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, and the faint flickers of fondness now crackling through the pact-bond reassured him he was safe.

"Vayne," he heard said softly, from a throat husky from growling.

His vision slowly focused on the gold-and-pink blur in front of him. At first it looked like lights, torch-glow dancing off his glasses and the bright strands of his hair, but he knew it was Roxis, and with that knowledge familiar features clicked into place.

He tried to say Roxis' name, but couldn't. His voice felt all used up.

He felt a hand tangle loosely in his hair, another caressing his back. "I know you wanted to awaken to find me towering over you, all triumphant and proud. But I couldn't help it. When you passed out, I started worrying about you too much."

Vayne smiled weakly, and with great effort forced the words out. "...Next time?"

Roxis raised an eyebrow. "All that, and your first thought is 'next time'? You look like Sulpher dragged you in."

Sulpher mewed in affirmation of his name, and as reassurance to Vayne of his presence. Vayne started to laugh, but quickly fell to uncomfortable wheezing as his lungs spasmed. "I feel like Sulpher dragged me in. But... it's okay. It's a good kind of hurt."

"You really are remarkable," Roxis mused. "Well, if you're really that resilient...." He trailed off.

"Hm?"

"...Let's see if we can get you back to my room without the whole student body noticing."

Vayne looked down at his naked form. "I don't think I'm up for getting dressed. But I think I can manage that, as long as I don't have to move. I'll just wish us back there."

Seconds passed. "...ngh. I guess I really _am_ pretty drained. Looks like we're walking after all."

"I'll help you get your clothes on. At least your shirt and pants." Roxis examined Vayne's expression carefully. "So... if I'm hearing this right... you can't wish when you're too weak like this?"

"Nn. Yeah, I think so.... It was like that back during the ordeal, too. I need a bit of energy to get it started, though the rest is the universe."

Roxis nodded slowly. "So you're basically saying... you _are_ helpless, right now."

The realisation dawned on Vayne too. "...Mm. I... I guess I am." A surge of arousal washed through him, need heavy between his legs. _I really am. He could do anything to me. Oh, gods, please let him take advantage._

A sing-song tone came to Roxis' voice. "Completely... helpless." He lifted Vayne into a sitting position, his hand teasingly brushing his erection as he pulled up his pants. "You know, there was a noticeable lack of begging for mercy back there. I'm not too satisfied with that."

Goosebumps crept up Vayne's thighs, a whimper escaping his dry throat. "Come to think of it, neither am I."

Roxis smirked. "Good." He trailed a fingernail down Vayne's now-covered length, making his hips stir with the need to thrust into that touch, but leaden muscles held him down. Nonetheless, Roxis saw the twitch, or maybe felt it, and a little frown crossed his face, his hand poised purposefully inches away from that yearning, sensitive spot. "Do I have to start beating you all over again?"

A sharp, stinging slap against tender flesh: the image flashed through his mind, and his eyes closed as he shuddered. The idea of that was only making him stiffen further, as if trying to expose himself for the abuse.

Part of him didn't know if he could stand any more pain. But a much bigger part of him didn't know if he could stand the lack.

With all the strength he could muster, he pressed up against Roxis' hand.


End file.
